The Sitter
Roy was sad and troubled. There was a movie that Roy always watched with the family. Roy didn’t love the movie; there was too much singing for his taste but in the movie a character said that someone else was feeling “a little brought down.” Roy thought that explained exactly how he felt.
The sun was low in the sky and for a second day in a row his dinner was late. Near the front door, from his favourite chair that was bathed in fading winter sun, Roy waited and mused on life’s unfairness.
Across from him on the rug in front of a set but unlit fire Bandit stretched while rolling from one side to the other. Roy felt that he would like Bandit more if, just like the unfortunate cats that had been found beside the embalmed Pharaohs, he was mummified.
Bandit would have been surprised if he had known. When he thought about Roy at all it was as a good guy. Doggy and annoying of course but that was to be expected. Roy was always running around, barking and smelling Bandit’s bottom every morning when they met up for breakfast over their respective bowls. Bandit did wonder why Roy thought his bum would smell different from morning to morning. He wasn’t the perfume counter at David Jones.
When Bandit woke up again it was much later. The sitter had come home and turned on the TV but now he was asleep on the couch. Bandit licked his fur and thought about how lucky he was that sleeping made him hungry. He walked, in that supermodel way that all cats learn from their mothers, to his food bowl where to his disgust he found the bowl completely empty. Bandit’s first thought was that Roy had eaten his dinner. It had happened before and Bandit had indicated to Roy not to do it again by swiping at Roy the next time he trotted by. The yelp when his perfectly timed slash connected with Roy’s nose was deeply satisfying. But looking at Roy now, Bandit could see that he had not stolen his dinner.
It was night when the sitter came home. The sitter had been with them for one week and two days and Roy was desperate for the family to return from their summer holiday. The sitter had started well with daily walks and over filled bowls but the last few days had seen a big drop in standards. At last, Roy thought, now I can get some dinner.
He jumped off the chair and hurried towards the sitter who almost stood on him. After swaying erratically the sitter collapsed on his back on the couch. With one hand he turned on the TV and with the other the sitter gave a Roy an absent-minded pat on the head and a clumsy scratch around the ears. He switched the channel to that noisy video show and Roy who had been somewhat mollified with the head scratch realised with horror that the stranger’s eyes were already closing. Roy barked once, twice and the sitter’s eyes fluttered opened again.
“Yes old friend, “ he muttered. “I will feed you in a minute. Just need a little bit of a rest, it’s been a big day.” Roy had smelt the “day “on him from the moment the sitter had staggered in smelling of beer and kebab. The rich odour of the grilled meat and malty beer made Roy’s hunger worse and being called “old mate” made him more annoyed. Roy wanted his dinner and he wanted it now.
Roy barked again and was shocked to see that this time the sitter’s eyes stayed closed. A gentle snore was starting in the back of his throat. Roy was outraged and leaping onto the sitter’s chest he barked again and again. But there was no sound from the sitter, just the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the torture of the lingering odour of lamb wafting from his mouth.
Bandit strode back to the couch and showed a degree of interest by watching as Roy danced up and down on the sitter’s chest and barked in his ear. Having eaten a slow and tasty mouse earlier in the day Bandit’s annoyance at his own empty food bowl was more about insult than injury.
“Hey Roy, I told you. You should have tried to catch a mouse,” said Bandit with mischief on his mind. “I have seen this sort of thing before. After the beer and the food you know he won’t wake up again till morning.”
“But don’t worry mate, “ he added, “ I am sure he will feel very guilty in the morning and give us extra. Besides there is still yummy toilet water to keep us going until tomorrow.”
Roy felt a sudden, strong desire to bite Bandit’s throat very, very hard but instead he growled, “I’m not eating mice. Surely it’s not too much to ask that the house sitter can feed us before he falls into an alcoholic coma. I mean he is getting paid to do this. And you! You said that this sitter would be different. You said that when you met him during the interview you were quite impressed.”
“I am surprised,” Bandit replied after a pause.
Cats hate to admit it when they are wrong.
”We cats are usually excellent judges of character, certainly better than you barkers. You give your love to anyone with some leftover pizza and a pair of shoes covered in different smells. Anyway you might as well settle down and wait, all you are doing there with your stomping is making a nice bed for yourself.”
Roy looked down at the sitter’s chest under his feet. It was warm and his stomping had messed and pulled the sitter’s shirt and pullover around. It did look a cosy place for a nap.
“Quickly now,” Bandit urged. “If you don’t, I will.”
Roy sighed, considered his blood pressure and lay down on the sitter’s chest. There was a pleasant odour of cooked meat surrounding him and he was tired from all that barking. Soon he was sound asleep.
Which is how he stayed until the next morning when the sitter woke in fright and confusion. The weight on his chest made him think he was having a heart attack and he jumped to his feet. Roy flew halfway across the room, landing on his head before he could wake up. Even after the sitter had calmed down he still cursed and yelled at Roy. Roy thought this was very unfair. After all he was still waiting for his dinner.
What made it worse was that Bandit laughed the whole time from where he was sitting, waiting politely and patiently beside his empty food bowl.
What made it worse still was the sitter, still angry with Roy for scaring him, made a point of filling Bandit’s food bowl to the top but did not even touch Roy’s.
Life is so unfair.
Photo by Tatiana Rodriguez on Unsplash
